


Little Drummer Boy

by Accal1a



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunken Kissing, High School, M/M, Party, Prompt Fic, Sexual Content, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accal1a/pseuds/Accal1a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Senior Year of High School and Monty fancies the unattainable (?) drummer, Jasper.</p><p>Miller and Murphy are drunk and meddling for some reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Drummer Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jasbaejordan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jasbaejordan).



> Tumblr prompt from Jasbaejordan: "Jonty AU - Jasper is a drummer in a HS band and Monty is crushing on him and then there's a party and drunk/high stuff happens."

Monty thought it should be illegal to be that hot - especially if it was affecting his schoolwork. How was he supposed to concentrate when a drumstick twirling, floppy haired, bracelet wearing, sparkly eyed teenager was in his eye line? How was he supposed to get anything done at all?

It would have been easier if Jasper was a tool. He could be as hot as you like but if he had a toxic personality then Monty could have just looked at him occasionally and then reminded himself he was a git and move on. That wasn’t the case though. 

Monty Green spent quite a lot of his time looking at Jasper Jordan in the myriad of classes which they had together and Jasper was adorable, there was no other word for it. He blushed when he got a question right in class (which was often); and he was clearly intelligent (but didn’t like to show it much). He twirled his drumstick all the time but it wasn’t done in a cocky ‘look at me I’m awesome, I play the drums’ way, he never really talked about his music. Monty thought that maybe Jasper wasn’t even aware that he was doing it. He seemed to have a sort of nervous energy under his skin and he wondered whether maybe Jasper had a hint of ADHD. He picked up books if people dropped them in the hall and for some reason the easy way in which he did so was becoming a massive problem for Monty. So much so that he was accidently fumbling his books and being the subject of Jasper’s help wasn’t making his crush go away any quicker. 

It would have been a great pick-up line, if Monty was good at that sort of thing. The ‘dropping your books accidentally’ shtick would have worked if Monty wasn’t nervous himself, wasn’t completely incapable of speech around people he knew well sometimes, let alone people he fancied. He was content to keep to the shadows and not incur the wrath of anyone the school had deemed ‘cooler’ than he was.

That was until Janice Hillman had a party.

Monty didn’t know Janice well. The only memory he had of her was of her setting one of her pigtails on fire on a Bunsen burner in middle school and everyone calling her ‘Burntice Hairman’ for the rest of the year. God, they were all dicks in middle school.

Janice had recently ascended the popularity ladder somewhat due to something Monty wasn’t privy to and didn’t really care. Her parents were going through a messy divorce and their response was to shower her with gifts and allow her free reign of their second home at the weekends. Monty wasn’t sure that was particularly responsible parenting but kept quiet lest he become more of a pariah.

The flyers were shoved into every locker, lurid green and emblazoned with single words with too many exclamation marks after them. Beer!!!! The party promised. Live Music!! It continued (clearly that wasn’t quite as exciting as beer) and finally No Parents!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Monty would have passed up on the party entirely if it hadn’t been for a random jock who walked past, shoving him into his locker, muttering he didn’t know why he had been invited, it wasn’t like he was going to go. He knew it was petty, that reverse psychology was being applied but damn it he was going to go to a high school party and he was going to stay for at least 30 minutes before going home!

When the evening arrived, Monty bounced on his heels outside the already booming house. It was down a clearly affluent residential street which was surprisingly devoid of cars and Monty wondered how many of the properties were empty because they were second homes.

He walked up the expansive driveway, stepping over red and blue cups which already littered the pale red bricks. His thought alternated with each step. One: This was a really stupid idea. Two: This could be great. One: What the hell was he thinking? Two: Maybe he could have some beer. One: What was the point of this High School rite of passage anyway? 

The last thought he had before he reached for the doorbell was: You only have to stay 30 minutes if you don’t like it you can go home.

He needn’t have reached for the doorbell in the end as a crowd of people suddenly surged out onto the lawn and he was swept up in their chaos for a minute. He managed to extricate himself, moving once more back to the front door. Flattening down the shirt he’d thrown on over jeans; hoping this was just the right mix between smart and casual one was supposed to wear to a party; and, taking a deep breath, he walked in to the maelstrom.

It was all the things he was expecting and yet somehow incredibly disappointing anyway. There was a table in the corner with an assortment of snacks, people dancing on the carpet, people chatting on sofas and a general buzz of excitement in the air. Monty felt left out immediately.

He’d promised he would stay for 30 minutes and that was exactly what he was going to do. Even if that meant he was going to spend those 30 minutes, 29 minutes now, in the furthest corner of the party as far away from people as possible.

Monty turned to go in what he hoped was the direction of the kitchen and did a double take. The stereo wasn’t playing. The music was coming from a band that had been set up in the corner, their presence initially concealed by the layout of the sitting room. He glanced at the guys who were playing guitar and bass, recognising them from school. As if in a dream, his eyes continued scanning upwards to where the drummer sat, first seeing the long fingered hands grasping the sticks firmly but also delicately. Monty continued his assessment, seeing the bracelets adorning the guys wrists, all the while he continued to play, a beat which seemed to match the sped up heart beat Monty suddenly realised he was sporting. This was bad, this was so very very bad.

Jasper locked eyes with him once he’d finally finished his scan. He continued to drum, his hands moving quickly but he didn’t take his eyes away from Monty until he had to do a pretty impressive drum fill. When he looked up again, Monty was gone.

Monty needed to get drunk. Now. This was the worst thing that could ever have happened to him. The world needed to open up and swallow him. It was all very well harbouring a small and totally insignificant crush which was absolutely not taking over his every waking thought. It was quite another to be caught openly staring at said crash.

He barrelled into the kitchen, steadying himself on the side of counter when he saw how packed it was.

“Cue up another one, Miller!”

The tall guy who Monty assumed was called Miller, who was also quite hot incidentally (kill him, kill him now), looked him over.

“Oh yeah, he’s definitely a candidate.”

Monty wondered what sort of crazy cult he’d stumbled into and started backing away slowly.

The first guy slung his hand over his shoulder and brought him into the group of much taller boys. They seemed nice enough but Monty had been bullied for enough years to realise that looks weren’t always the best judge. He must have looked scared because the guy let go of him. Standing unaided, Monty suddenly felt very, very short.

“I’m a candidate for what?” Monty asked quietly, barely heard over the noise of the party.

“Murphy’s got this plan.” Miller said, gesturing at the guy who’d had his arm round Monty a moment ago.

“Right!” The guy - Murphy - said, punctuating his word with a gesture from his red plastic cup. “Our mission this evening, which we have chosen to accept, is to be party godmothers!”

“I thought we’d decided not to call it that.”

“We can come up with a better name later, will you shut up?”

“Party…” Monty repeated, sure he’d misheard.

“Yeah, like we’re going to find people who have clearly had some sort of party problem and then we’re going to help them.”

“Help them?” Monty repeated, still not following what was going on.

“Yup.” He passed Monty the red cup. “You just did something you wish you hadn’t, you hope the world will swallow you up and you don’t know if you’re ever going to be able to go back to school.”

Monty’s head whipped up so fast he felt slightly dizzy for a second.

“You had ‘the look’. But don’t worry, Miller’s Juice will cure your ill.”

“Okay, we’re not calling it THAT.”

“Would you just, shut up? I’m explaininating!”

Monty couldn’t help but laugh, Murphy was entertaining and, he assumed, more than a little bit drunk.

“So this…” Monty said, shaking the drink he’d been handed.

“That? That’ll cure all your worries. Party Godmother guaranteed.”

“We’re not call...”

“…shut up, Miller.”

~~~

Murphy wasn’t wrong, Miller’s Juice was definitely working. Monty was feeling much better and he’d even managed to talk to some people and those people hadn’t run off as soon as he’d done so, so he chalked that up to a win.

He went outside to get some fresh air and saw a haze of smoke coming from a swing set which was partially hidden behind some bushes. Curious, he followed the odd smelling smoke and then sat down on the swing when his legs gave out. He should probably stop drinking.

“Hi.”

Monty turned to the new voice, not realising there had been anyone there, the smoke all but forgotten in his drunken mind. There was a boy leaning against the swing set. He had long legs and gangly arms, the bracelets which ran far up his wrists seemed familiar but Monty couldn’t quite remember why. When he looked further up (and just how tall was this guy), Monty gasped and jerked backwards. 

Unfortunately, he was on a swing so the movement caused him to fall backwards, his drunken coordination not quick enough to grab the ropes holding the swing aloft. He fell to the ground with a soft thud and just lay there staring up at the stars. Mercifully, he hadn’t spilt his drink and he raised it to his mouth. 

A bracelet laden wrist appeared out of nowhere and deftly plucked the cup from his hand.

“Hey!” Monty said, struggling to sit up and scowling at Jasper.

Jasper, for his part, was sniffing the cup and then turning his nose up. “What _is_ this stuff?”

“Miller Juice.” Monty replied, not seeing the amused look Jasper had on his face after he had said so. “Can I have it back?”

“Are you sure?” Jasper asked and Monty couldn’t believe he was actually having a conversation with Jasper freaking Jordan of all people.

“I’ll go away. It'll go away. Party godmothers said. World swallowed.” Monty said.

Jasper sat down cross legged next to Monty, who had managed to sit up and was now leaning with his arms back behind him, staring at the cup.

“Do you want to try that again?”

“It’s magic. It’s supposed to make it all go away.”

“Make what go away?”

“The embarrassment.” 

Monty’s brain was telling him that this was dangerous territory, that he just needed to have a little more magic and this whole situation would be resolved. He shouldn’t be having this conversation.

“What have you done that was embarrassing?” Jasper asked.

Monty wasn’t sure, but he thought Jasper might have got closer to him, or maybe he’d leaned closer himself. In any case, this close, Jasper’s messy brown hair and sparkly eyes looked more adorable than they had before and Monty sighed.

“Monty.” Jasper said, seemingly even closer now.

“You know my name?” Monty replied, turning his head so they were mere inches apart now.

“Of course I know your name.” Jasper responded and he did a quick breathy giggle. Then, before he could lose his nerve he closed the gap and placed a quick kiss on Monty’s lips.

When Monty didn’t back away, Jasper took that as a sign to continue. He ran his tongue across Monty’s lips, asking for entry which Monty readily gave him. Monty tasted of pineapples and alcohol and Jasper smiled a little into the kiss.

Monty’s brain had shut down completely, the only thing he could think was Jasper’s name over and over again. Jasper tasted like the smell of the smoke from earlier, he also inexplicably tasted of strawberries and liquorice, which Monty loved.

Emboldened, Jasper reached to cup his hands around Monty’s face and Monty backed up quickly, a worried look across his face.

“I’m taking advantage of you! You’re drunk!” Monty squeaked, his lips rosy red from kissing and looking a little shell-shocked.

“Actually, I’m completely sober, so technically _I’m_ taking advantage of _you_.” Jasper said, grinning.

“Oh.” Monty replied, seeming to think on this very seriously for a second. “Well, carry on then.”

Their lips crashed back together and this time it was urgent and bruising. All Monty could think now was ‘Want Want Want’.

When he pawed at Jasper’s T-shirt to take it over his head, Jasper’s breath hitched and the sound went straight to Monty’s dick, a zing of pleasure that he hadn’t realised he’d needed until it happened.

Jasper struggled out of his T-shirt and Monty was suddenly more sober than he had been in hours. Jasper was perfect, his lithe body shivering slightly in the cool summer air. Monty kissed him languidly, letting his hands roam all across Jasper’s chest and sides, pulling them closer.

“Too many clothes.” Jasper said between kisses.

Monty just nodded, starting to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Jasper pushed him backwards and Monty fell onto his back on the ground. In moments, Jasper was on top of him, kissing him and undoing his buttons at the same time, claiming him, possessing him for his own. Monty realised after a while that he was making soft keening noises and thrusting upwards into Jasper’s crotch

Jasper was leaning down to him now, his head dipped, kissing a trail down his neck, across his collar bone and down to his nipples. Jasper moved out of the way so that he could kiss Monty’s nipples properly and Monty moaned at the sudden loss of contact. Jasper giggled and continued his ministrations, sucking first one nipple and then the other into his mouth.

Monty was babbling incoherently now, his hands grasping the grass. He was getting dirt under his finger nails and he'd probably ruined this shirt but he didn’t care at all, his brain had gone back to single word sentences. ‘Jasper’; ‘Want’; and ‘Good’.

Jasper appeared again then, pressing him down further into the grass and kissing him breathlessly, Monty rose to meet the kiss and pushed Jasper up with his lips, Jasper letting him. Spinning Jasper to the side with his arms firmly on his shoulders, he was able to turn the tables and soon he was the one straddling Jasper, he was the one forcing a litany of broken words out of the other boy’s mouth.

He followed suite, kissing down Jasper’s neck and collarbone, a move that seemed to drive Jasper wild, so he kept doing it. It was only when Jasper started to whine his name in his ear that he knew enough was enough. He stepped off Jasper and lay next to him instead. They continued to kiss, their hands exploring each other’s body.

Monty was the first one to initiate further contact and any doubts he had as to whether this was a good idea were assuaged immediately. Jasper bucked up into his hand as soon as he touched even the outside of his trousers and made the most broken sound he’d ever heard. He lowered the zipper very slowly, the wait making Jasper pant with need, Monty smiling into his mouth.

Jasper hated buttons. He was going to have a proper concerted war against buttons at some point in the future. Who put three buttons on trousers? What the hell were they thinking? Why didn’t Monty have a zip? Eventually Monty’s trousers were open and Jasper had him in his hand. Monty made a beautiful noise and flung his head back in ecstasy as Jasper stroked him, Monty matching his rhythm on his own manhood.

It was over too quickly and yet not quickly enough, both boys making a broken cry at the same time, the ropey fluid splattering both the grass between them and splashing on their stomachs.

Monty fell backwards on the grass, his eyes completely clear, the stars the only thing in his vision. He was completely sober now but he still couldn’t feel his legs. That was the most amazing thing that had ever happened.

Jasper too lay on his back, an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t look at anything, he needed to sear this memory into his brain so that it would never leave. Who knew if he was going to have a chance again. What if Monty only liked him when he was drunk?

“You’re thinking awfully loudly over there.” Monty said after a moment, still panting slightly, his voice slightly hoarse.

“Am I?” Jasper said, feigning ignorance.

Monty looked across at him, picked his hand up and pulled it away from his eyes. Jasper turned with the arm and looked at Monty through too-long eyelashes, his eyes still hooded.

“I’ve fancied you since Sophomore Year.” Monty said boldly. It hardly seemed to matter whether Jasper knew about his crush now, considering what they’d just done.

“You only joined the school in Sophomore Year.” Jasper replied, his face scrunching up in confusion.

“I know.”

“Oh.”

Monty lay back down, his hand still in Jasper’s and he closed his eyes, just to rest them for a moment.

~~~

Jasper and Monty, passed out in post-orgasmic bliss, didn’t hear the conversation spoken over their sleeping forms, the sun rising slowly on the horizon. Bringing with it a warm summer day and the prospect of more to follow.

“I think our work here is done.”

“Those crazy kids just needed a push.”

“Shut up, Miller.”

“You shut up, Murphy.”


End file.
